


gone from the word go

by curlyfries



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Awkward Flirting, Drunken Confessions, Drunken Flirting, Fluff, Humor, Initial Rejection, Jealous Harry, Jealousy, M/M, Non-Consensual Groping, also the other boys are only mentioned a few times, and they're really cute, as in there is an arse slap, basically it's just all fluff, there is almost no angst I'm so sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-23
Updated: 2015-06-23
Packaged: 2018-04-05 17:55:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,365
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4189452
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/curlyfries/pseuds/curlyfries
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry headed for Sydney, Australia for two weeks of fun and a last hoorah before subjecting himself to another four years of schooling. He thought it would be a fortnight of bumming around on the beach while drinking fruity cocktails, and maybe a cheeky handjob here and there. What he didn't expect was Louis Tomlinson.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Or an AU where Louis works at a beachside bar and Harry is gone from the word go.</p>
            </blockquote>





	gone from the word go

**Author's Note:**

  * For [louloubaby92](https://archiveofourown.org/users/louloubaby92/gifts).



> I sincerely apologise for the lack of angst, but I hope you enjoy it anyway :)

Harry just wanted to have some fun with his mates in a foreign country before forcing himself through another four years of schooling. And he was totally going to – have fun that is. At least, that’s what he told himself as he woke up with a throbbing head three hours before he had to be at the airport. He heaved a groan and swiped a hand down his face, brushing the sleep from his eyes. He swung his legs over the edge of his bed and shivered as the bare soles of his feet touched the cold hardwood floor of his room, before pushing himself up and making his way groggily to the bathroom. After thoroughly savouring and deeply enjoying what was going to be his last hot shower for almost two days – oh God – Harry rushed through breakfast, sculling his tea and grabbing a banana for the road. He scanned his flat in a last once over, hoping he hadn’t forgotten anything important, like his bug spray or his special sunscreen for his sensitive skin, and then he picked up his brown leather carryall and locked his front door. He chewed on his bottom lip with nerves as he drove to the airport in his beat up Ford Escort to meet Niall and Liam. The three of them had been planning this trip since the beginning of senior year, and Harry didn’t want to complain of cold feet, but –

maybe they shouldn’t go?

Like, what if something were to happen? Like they run out of money and can’t get back. Then what would they do about Uni? Harry knew he was grasping at straws but he couldn’t help but be a little apprehensive about flying to Australia. It was on the other side of the world. It was like, a solid 21 hours of flying. And the last time Harry had been on a plane he was 13 and his family flew to Wales to visit his grandma. So, yeah. He wasn’t sure how keen on planes he was.

When he reached Heathrow and had finally found a park, he headed to check in. Standing by the gate was Niall Horan and Liam Payne. Harry made a happy noise in the back of his throat as he got closer, and they both looked up from their phones with matching grins. All three of them settled into an excited embrace, Niall jumping up and down and knocking his limbs into knees and chests. Harry could feel his feet slipping out from underneath him, and only had time to squawk in surprise before collapsing on the airport floor and dragging Niall and Liam down with him. They lay there in a pile of entangled limbs, catching their breath, until Liam huffed out a laugh. Harry giggled a little. And then Niall cackled, and they all exploded with laughter, uncaring about the confused and judgemental stares they could feel on them. Maybe Harry was laughing a little hysterically, and maybe he was trying to laugh out his nerves. But that was okay, because he was going to fucking _Australia_.

“Holy shit,” Harry bolted upright and swayed on his feet. Liam held a hand to his shoulder to steady him. Harry had a glassy look in his eyes, and his grin was bordering on manic. “Lads,” he looked at each of his boys, “lads we’re going to Australia!” Both Liam and Niall were now sporting matching cheek-numbing smiles. They cheered and slapped hands, and maybe had a little hug.

Harry sighed as he reached to the floor to pick up his bag. He really did like his bag. It was just so pretty, and leathery and like, maybe a little hipster-y. And maybe Harry kind of liked that? He sighed again and the three of them wandered over to the electronic check-ins. Harry breezed through – his new passport was working for him – but Niall seemed to have some trouble with the facial recognition. His passport photo was of him at 16, and in two years his face had slimmed and his bleached blond hair had faded into dyed tips. According to the computer, this was cause for concern. Niall’s face turned red as the computer told him it couldn’t fix an accurate match, and could he please move to the manual check-in. Niall looked over to his left and his face dropped as he took in the huge line that had formed. He turned his saddened face to Liam and Harry, but one look from him to the line had them bursting into laughter again. As Niall sulked over to the back of the queue, Liam called out a light-hearted, “we’ll see you on the other side,” which sent Harry into another fit of giggles.

Eventually Niall made it past check-in and through security, after many stress-tugs on his hair, and found Harry and Liam stocking up on McDonald’s chips and shakes, and savouring their unhealthy deliciousness. Niall sat down beside them and stole a handful of fries from Harry’s tray.

“Hey,” Harry protested, shielding the cardboard box against his chest protectively, “get your own chips.” Liam silently pushed his chips over to Harry, who made a happy hum in his throat and got back to eating. He checked the time on his phone with greasy fingers.

“We should get going, lads,” Liam said, pushing his chair back with a horrible scraping noise, “not too long ‘til our flight, now.” He loaded up the rubbish onto his tray, passing Niall his half-empty shake cup, before dumping everything in the bin. He grabbed his duffel and led the party of three to their boarding gate. Niall heaved a sigh as he slumped into an empty seat.

“I could fall asleep right now, whaddya reckon lads?”

“No way,” Harry shook his head, “’m too excited. A ball of energy.” He grinned. “Guys I’m actually so excited.” He shook his shoulders and rolled his head on his neck. To burn off some of his energy, he jogged on the spot. Liam was looking at him like he was the weirdest person he’d ever met – which, to be fair, was probably true. He smiled at Liam, all teeth, before taking off in the direction they’d just come from. Liam sighed despairingly. He was stuck with him for a whole two weeks.

Harry didn’t really know where he was running to – he just had too much energy coiled like a spring inside him. He didn’t want to get antsy on the plane; it would just make his flying jitters worse. He slowed down as he passed an organic whole foods store. He paused at a sign advertising ‘quinoa protein bars and organic single origin coffee for just £10’. Harry inwardly shrugged and awkwardly wandered in, tucking his hands into his insanely small pockets.

When Harry returned his eyes were bright and his hands were full. He’d ended up with a whole box of those protein bars and a belly full of warm, fair trade coffee (which is important). He did like a good cup of coffee – especially in the morning. Evenings were more often than not reserved for his herbal teas; unless he felt like treating himself. Then he would pop open a bottle of red (he’s a classy guy). Niall and Liam were in exactly the same positions as when he’d left them, except now Niall’s eyes were open and squinting at the bright green box in Harry’s hands.

“Whassat?” He mumbled. Harry held out the box to Niall’s grabby hands, and folded his hands behind his back as Niall scrutinized his quinoa. “Mate, that shit’s weird. Like, what the fuck is a quinoa?”

“It’s actually pronounced keen-wah.” Harry exaggerated his enunciation so Niall could really understand him.

“Um, pretty sure it’s not mate. That’s a ‘q’ and a ‘u’. That makes qu. As in quack. Like a duck. Not sure where you’ve gotten your information from, to be honest,” and with that, Niall threw his arm over his face and signaled the end of the conversation. Harry sighed good-naturedly with a little fond smile and took the box back, packing it into an already tightly squeezed bag.

He had just sat down and begun to relax (as much as possible) into the hard and cold airport seats when a voice announced their flight was starting to board. Harry’s nerves were starting to creep up on him again and his knee bounced of its own accord as he sat up, chewing on a fingernail. He saw Liam glance at him with concern on his face, but Harry just gave him a half-hearted smile and picked up his bag, extracting his passport and boarding ticket as well. As they moved towards those people who check the passports and stuff, Liam clapped a hand on his back and Niall nuzzled into his shoulder. Harry smiled; pleased he had such great friends. With their boarding tickets validated, the trio wandered down the hall to the entrance of the plane. Harry could hear the whirring of the engine and feel the flow of the air hit his face through the small gap between the plane and the end of the jet bridge. His nerves were beginning to give way to anticipation, and he couldn’t help but bounce up onto the balls of his feet as he waited for the line of people in front him to be directed. He was directed to his immediate right and he read the aisle numbers as he walked. Row 19; right on the wing. Perfect. Seat A; a window seat. Harry grinned as he grabbed his phone and book from his bag and stowed it in the luggage compartment. Harry knew a window seat on the wing probably wasn’t a great choice for a possibly nervous flyer, but like, he had a window seat! He sat down just as Liam appeared at their row. He got in beside Harry and helped Niall stow his carry-on. Harry drummed his fingers on his thigh and his shoulders were tense in nervous excitement. 19 hours to Hong Kong, then onto their 12-hour connecting flight to Sydney. Unfortunately, they would be reaching their final destination at six o’clock in the morning. But Harry sincerely hoped he could get some rest in during their 5-hour stop over, even if just in another uncomfortable chair.

The safety announcement started and Harry buckled his seatbelt. In his mind he was picking the best time to fall asleep. Obviously he wanted to watch the plane go down the runway – all the lights in the airport would surely illuminate the dark night enough. But then he wasn’t sure if they were getting dinner? Because if they were, Harry definitely wanted some. He turned to ask Liam but he was fully engrossed in the safety briefing, his eyes switching focus between the little television and the flight attendant. Harry shrugged minutely, not really bothered. He’d just ask Niall then – he’d know. He leaned over Liam’s lap and poked Niall in his squishy cheek.

“Oi Ni?” He poked him repeatedly until Niall paid him some attention. “Are we getting dinner?”

Niall paused for a moment, actually giving it some thought. “Well, it is eight o’clock. So like, maybe? Or maybe they expected us to eat. I dunno mate, sorry,” he gave Harry a friendly pat on the head and Harry moved back to his own seat. He supposed he would just listen to his music and doze a bit, and if food came, bonus. Harry scrolled through his phone to the new playlist he had arranged specifically for today. The previous day he’d bought a bunch of new stuff from iTunes, all so he could have a killer playlist for the plane. He plugged his earphones into his ears, relaxed back into the seat and closed his eyes. 

*

Sydney Airport was just waking up as Harry, Liam and Niall passed through the Arrivals gate. Not much up to talking early in the morning, they directed each other towards the Information Desk with shoulder nudges and grunts. Too tired to appreciate the tranquility of the rising sun against the quiet airport, they found a taxi and set off for the city centre.

Harry’s head cleared during the drive and he stared wide-eyed out the window of the taxi, just taking it all in. He was finally in Sydney – the actual other side of the world. His insides were bursting with excitement and he couldn’t wait to just wander and explore. The taxi took them into the CBD to their hostel, and they thanked him profusely before heading inside. After dumping their luggage and stashing their valuables in the safe, they grabbed a map from Reception and headed outside to explore.

“So we’re here,” Harry said, pointing to a little red dot in the middle of Sydney. “Do we want to go somewhere specific, or just have a wander?”

“I think we should just wander, yeah? Get some breakfast?” Niall nodded his head. “Definitely breakfast.”

Liam steered them right and they settled on a quaint café who claimed they had the best coffee in Sydney. Its exterior was painted lavender purple, with a bright green door to grab the attention of passersby. The windows wore blue shutters and indoors mismatched chairs accompanied the rustic tables. Harry grinned at the boys as they walked in. This was his kind of place. There were posters on the walls advertising concerts from 1969 to comedy festivals the next week. The three boys grabbed a table in front of a long rectangular window to people watch as they ate.

After a hearty full English and a quality cup of coffee they headed back to the train station to find a bus to take them to Bondi Beach. Harry figured they might as well tourist it up while they had the energy. When he stepped off the bus the crowd blew him away. There were so many people packed in to the area. The stretch of beach was covered with bodies, umbrellas and towels and all the different colours made for a sore sight. Harry marveled at the actual sand and thanked God he remembered to wear shorts. He slipped off his shoes and wiggled his toes in the sand, Liam and Niall following behind.

The afternoon passed leisurely into evening, Harry completely relaxed and still full from the ice cream they’d bought from an actual van. He was keen to head back to their hostel and take advantage of their private shower, but Liam and Niall were trying to persuade him into going out.

“Come on, Harry, it’s our first night,” Liam whined.

“Exactly,” Harry shot back.

“No,” Niall complained, drawing out the vowel, “you can’t waste out first night in Australia. You know it wouldn’t be the same without you. Who else will be my wingman?”

“Hey,” Liam frowned. Niall patted his shoulder consolingly.

“Sorry buddy, but it just doesn’t work when you try. They always get caught up in your beautiful brown eyes,” Niall caressed Liam’s face, “and then when you have to gently let them down because you’re not looking for a one-nighter, they’re not even interested in a rebound! At least with Harry I know it’ll never be a problem because he just oozes ‘I like penis.’”

“Hey,” then it was Harry’s turn to frown.

“It’s all good bro, I’ll find you a cute lad and you’ll forget all about it.”

Harry sighed. It seemed pretty clear he wasn’t going to get out of it, so he reluctantly agreed. “As long as we go back to change.” Niall and Liam nodded excitedly, and their excited smiles were infectious. Even with his hesitance and need for a nap, Harry found himself biting back a smile. This might actually be good; plus he might meet a cute lad. Harry was quickly beginning to get on board with the idea.

*

After a quick pit stop at the hostel, Harry donning a golden-patterned button-up tee and wriggling into his tightest jeans (which of course he brought) they caught a taxi back to the beach. Niall claimed he had earlier he had found a cool looking club on the beachfront, and that he was sure it would be “hella rad” once it opened for the night. And Harry had to admit it didn’t look too shabby. It held a simple white exterior, a match with the white of the sand, and a large purple awning stretching out over the entry. The left side of the building was open, and Harry could hear music and chatter pouring out. Liam and Niall each grabbed one of his hands and dragged him inside behind them. The people in line grumbled as they completely bypassed the queue and were allowed straight inside. Harry didn’t have anything to offer them other than an apologetic smile; even he didn’t know how Niall did it.

Once they got inside Harry didn’t know where to look. His head swivelled on his neck as he tried to take it all in at once. It was probably one of the most lavish clubs he had ever been to, though that wasn’t saying much. There was leather lounges seated high on a split-level, with personal waiters catering for the posh sods sitting there. The dance floor was vast, with rainbow disco floors, and it should have been tacky but it wasn’t. It was packed with people swaying and grinding, cocktails and beer bottles held aloft. The place actually looked pretty cool. But Harry felt himself getting a bit stuffy, and lifted his shirt from his already sweaty stomach. He looked around for Niall and Liam but they seemed to have disappeared. He shrugged a sigh and headed off to look for that outdoor area he’d seen from the front.

When he found it he closed his eyes to the greeting of the cool breeze against his sticky skin. He stood there for a moment, swaying, before a voice cut through his tranquillity.

“Hey mate, can I get you something?” For a moment Harry wasn’t sure where the voice was coming from, but a quick glance to his right confirmed they were talking to him. It belonged to a very nice looking man who didn’t seem too much older than Harry. His hair looked soft and feathery and his wrists dainty where he ran his fingers through it. The man’s eyes were a sharp blue, and Harry had completely forgotten the question.

“Y’alright mate? Can I get you something to drink?” A few quick blinks and Harry was focused again. He took note of the dark shiny bar the pretty man was standing behind and the varied bottles of alcohol on the shelf behind him.

“Um, can I just get, like, a soft drink or something? Please,” he remembered to add. The man’s accent sounded vaguely familiar, but in his exhausted state he couldn’t place it.

The man’s eyebrows rose. “A soft drink. In one of the poshest clubs in Sydney?” He shook his head. “Alright, mate. What’ll it be? A coke? Lemonade?”

Harry cocked his head in thought. “A lemonade, I think, please.” The barman nodded and turned to start on the drink. Harry’s eyes wandered down his back, blinking roughly at the shape of his muscles. Then his eyes fell to his arse and Harry bit his lip. God he looked so good. His eyes quickly flew up as the man turned around but Harry knew he must have seen because he gave Harry a tight smile and handed him the drink.

“That’s $6 please. Or would you like to open a tab?” Harry tried to gauge the man’s opinion on either. He actually thought about it, and really didn’t feel like trying to find his friends, or someone to take to the bathrooms.

“Tab, please,” he decided. The man nodded and rung it up on his register. Harry took his drink and slid down the bar to the end, where he was shrouded in shadows and hopefully wouldn’t be bothered. He pulled out his phone and could feel the barman’s eyes watching him, so he gave a quick quirk of his lips before looking back down. He played Bejeweled until he finished his lemonade, and looked up to flag down the man to ask for another. But when he put his phone away, he saw the man busy with a few drunken men. They had their drinks in front of them but seemed to still want something. The barman said a few cutting words and watched the drunkards stumble away with an irritated look. He looked to his left and saw Harry there, watching him. He gave a thin-lipped smile to Harry before gesturing to his glass. Harry checked the time and saw it was later than he thought. He gave a small smile and shook his head, before reaching into his tight pocket for the six dollars. He handed it over to the barman and stood up.

“’M Harry,” he held a hand out for the barman to shake. He took it with a smile.

“Louis.” Harry grinned at him and let their hands drop.

“See you around, Louis.”

* 

There had been no one in the room last night when Harry had supported a stumbling Niall and Liam inside, but when he woke up there were two extra bodies. He shifted to look over at the other beds, where Niall and Liam were still sleeping. Careful not to wake anyone, he left the warmth of his bed for the bathroom. Looking at himself in the mirror, Harry thought about last night. Louis. Just thinking of him made Harry smile. Which was stupid, he told himself. He had only met the guy last night, and even then he wasn’t very forthcoming. But something told Harry it wasn’t personal. And that was why he decided to go back. With this decision in mind he left the bathroom to grab some clothes and a towel.

When he came out Liam and Niall were still in bed, but the other mystery guests had disappeared. With free reign over the room again he threw himself on top of Niall, who grunted and shoved at him. When he wouldn’t move Niall slipped one eye open to peer at the nuisance on top of him. When he saw it was Harry he groaned and rolled over underneath him, causing Harry to flop off the edge.

“Hey,” Harry whined as Liam jumped awake at the loud bang. He whimpered at the bright sunlight filtering through the curtains and made to shoo at it with his arm. Harry giggled quietly from his place on the floor.

He jumped up and assessed his two best friends. They were a sorry sight, with their duvets bunched around their hips and arms thrown over their faces. Harry looked at them fondly.

“I’m going to get breakfast. You’re both welcome to join me.” Niall perked up that that, face rumpled with sleep.

“Breakfast?” He asked sleepily, “I’m coming.” He stretched a leg over to Liam and poked him with his toe. ‘Liam. Lee-yum.” Liam just groaned. “Get up, Lee-yum. Breakfast time! It’s the most important meal of the day, you can’t possibly miss it.” Liam heaved a bodily sigh and rolled onto his back.

“Alright, alright,” he grunted, “I’m up.”

It took another half hour before they were ready to leave the hostel, and Harry spent that time impatiently scrolling through his phone. Facebook was open and he was sheepishly scrolling through all the ‘Louis’ that came up. None appeared to have the bright eyes and sharp cheekbones of his Louis though. Harry scrubbed a hand over his eyes, embarrassed at himself. Here he was, calling Louis ‘his’ when he’d only met him last night. But Harry couldn’t help it. He was a hopeless romantic, and something had definitely clicked with Louis.

Niall suggested a McDonald’s they passed by and Harry indulged them, knowing quite well how they were feeling. Harry settled for a few hash browns and a McMuffin. As they found a table, Niall started on his tedious explanation of last night. 

“…And I saw this bird, right? She was well fit. And I took her hand to dance, only this big Australian bloke cut me off! And she didn’t even notice!” He concluded with his mouth full of egg.

“Niall, I literally understood none of that,” Liam laughed. Harry smiled along but he wasn’t paying much attention, instead Googling the name of the club. And maybe hoping that they had an Employees page. Harry pouted down at his screen when he saw, in fact; they didn’t have a page for their employees. But he did have the opening times for the club, and if they pre-gamed at a couple of other places, hopefully he would have a pleasant enough buzz to give him a bit of courage.

“Hey guys,” Harry mused, not looking up from his phone. “How do you feel about going out again tonight?” He gave them a hopeful look. Liam and Niall just looked at each other and rolled their eyes. As if they could ever say no to Harry.

* 

During their day Harry had mapped out a route that took them past three other clubs before they would get to Louis’. The boys didn’t show any suspicion when Harry showed interest in going back to the same place, which relieved him. He’d been trying to plan a speech or something in his head all day, in between the shopping trips and beach runs Liam had dragged him and Niall to. But his mind was blank.

It was fifteen minutes before they were supposed to leave for the first club and Harry was sitting on the bed in his underwear, chewing his lip. Liam had stepped out for a moment, and when he came back and saw Harry hadn’t moved, he sighed. He came and squatted down in front of Harry, slapping his hands on Harry’s knees, shocking him out of his thoughts.

“Fuck, Li. You scared me.”

Liam gave him a pointed look. Harry looked down at his curled toes sheepishly.

“Is there a boy?” Harry looked up sharply, then straight back down when he realised he had given it away. He blushed fiercely and couldn’t look Liam in the eye.

“Did you meet him last night? Is that why you want to go back?” Harry gave a short nod and curled his toes further into the carpet, twisting his hands together in his lap. Liam patted his thigh and stood up. He started rooting through Harry’s bag, trying to find something “club appropriate”. He pulled out Harry’s ripped jeans a low cut black t-shirt.

“Chuck these on, mate. You’ll look dashing, I’m sure.” Harry slowly climbed into his clothes, ruffled his hair and stood attentively, waiting for Liam’s next instruction. Liam just rolled his eyes fondly and steered Harry towards the door, slapping Niall’s leg on the way. Niall grumbled but rolled out of bed, following the two out of the hostel.

As they approached the first club, Harry began to get nervous. After this place, there were only two more before he would have to face Louis. So he went straight to the bar and ordered a pint. He gulped it down and slammed the glass on the bar top. The bartender glared at him and he blushed sheepishly before signaling for another.

“Y’alright, H?” Liam asked, concerned, as Harry downed his new pint.

“Of course, Li. I’m peachy keen.” He gave both of them a manic smile and slithered away to the dance floor, shimmying as he went. Liam and Niall shared a look. They knew this meant he was nervous, and they only hoped it would disappear before their final destination, or Harry would be a wreck. Liam checked his watch and showed it to Niall. Harry had given the three of them ten minutes in each club, just enough to get a buzz going, but assuring himself and the others that his goal wasn’t to get wasted.

After ten minutes had passed, Niall and Liam stood up from the bar, downing the last of their drinks. They waded through the crowd to find Harry, who had his arms around someone’s waist and his head pressed into their neck. Liam tapped him on the shoulder and he turned, eyes already glazed.

“What a lightweight,” Liam murmured fondly. Harry giggled in response and said goodbye to his dance partner. He grabbed one hand each from Niall and Liam and led them towards where he thought the exit was.

The second club was much of the same, as was the third, the only difference being Harry got progressively drunker as the night wore on. By the third club, he couldn’t stop smiling and giggling. So Liam led a giggling Niall and Harry from the club and guided them down the street to their final destination. Once they arrived outside, Harry seemed to sober up a bit, gulping in air and chewing his lip.

“What if he doesn’t like me?” This was the first time he’d mentioned anything about Louis since Liam cornered him earlier. Harry wasn’t an overly confident person, but he’d never had any trouble pulling before. Liam wondered what made this guy so different. His thoughts must have been written on his face, as Harry responded,

“I honestly don’t know, Liam. There’s just something about him. I _need_ to see him again.” Niall nodded next to him.

“I get it. It’s all cool mate. What are we waiting for?” And with that, they headed in. Just like last time, it was loud and bright. Harry gestured over to where he remembered the outdoor bar to be, and both Niall and Liam nodded and gestured in the opposite direction. As Harry began to make his way over to where he hoped Louis was, he had a horrible thought that stopped him in his tracks.

_What if Louis wasn’t even working tonight?_

Harry couldn’t believe that thought hadn’t actually occurred to him, even when he was checking the site earlier that day. It had completely slipped his mind. He stared at the bar, now in sight. He wasn’t sure whether he wanted to go over any more. He knew there would be serious disappointment if Louis turned out not to be working. However, if he was, well, surely that outweighed the possible negatives. As he told Liam earlier, he needed to see Louis again. Partly to ease his troubled mind on whether he was actually real (because surely someone as perfect could never be real), but also because he felt drawn to him. Harry knew he had a tendency to fall fast and hard, but after six months of celibacy, he had to make sure his romantic soul was in it for the right reasons. As in, not just for sex.

Not that sex wasn’t great and all. It was. Harry loved sex. But he wasn’t looking for that anymore. Even though he had yet to start Uni, his experimental days were behind him. And maybe that was stupid of him, but he was so ready to fall in love.

So with that in mind and with his renewed determination, he stalked over to the bar and sat down in the same seat as last night. He hadn’t looked up yet, afraid of what he might see. At this point, so close to his heart’s desire, he wasn’t sure whether he would be relieved if Louis was there or not. But slowly, he lifted his head, until he came face to face with Louis. Harry immediately broke out in a grin, and Louis indulged him with an amused smile.

“Lou-ee!” Harry cried joyously.

“Hiya, Harry,” Louis replied.

“You remember me!” Harry manically grinned. He slapped his hands on the counter and attempted to school his face into a serious expression. “Louis. Lou, I have to ask you something important.”

Louis raised his eyebrow. “Lou, all I want in life is a fruity cocktail. Can I please have a fruity cocktail?” Harry pouted his pink lips and all Louis did was stare, until he finally nodded and turned around to make his drink. As he did so, someone else came sauntering up to the bar with purpose, and Harry immediately hated him. He had a huge quiff and no shirt on. Mr. Quiff whistled loudly to catch Louis’ attention, and from Harry’s angle, he could see Louis’ lips tighten. Louis turned around and produced Harry’s drink.

“Here you go, love,” Louis smiled again and Harry beamed. Quiffy McQuiff coughed pointedly and shook his empty glass at Louis. Louis gave a polite smile while Harry openly glared. The guy tried to flirt with Louis, but he just kept brushing him off. Harry was secretly pleased. He wanted Louis to himself, he realised. With every obscene comment Mr. Quiff made, the skin around Louis’ eyes tightened and his lips pursed just a bit more. Eventually Harry decided he’d had enough.

“Hey, you,” he drunkenly slurred. “Quiffy McQuiff Quiff, leave my boy alone.” He was concentrating extremely hard on not falling over, but he was determined to make this guy leave Louis alone. The guy didn’t seem remotely threatened by Harry, however. But that was unsurprising, as Harry was as scary as a disgruntled kitten; which is to say, not at all.

The man had the audacity to taunt Harry, and turn around as if Harry were talking to someone else. Harry was outraged. “Yeah, I’m talking to you, with the ugly quiff and the bare chest. Stop flirting with my boy. 

McQuiff smirked at him, “or what?” Harry opened his mouth to no doubt retort something ridiculous, but Louis stepped in.

“Harry, that’s enough,” Harry pouted at him and he relented a little. Eager to play up their impending love-fest, Harry held out his hand to Louis, who took it with a knowing smile. He swung their hands between them, biting his lip and looking Harry in the eyes. Just as Harry was beginning to get lost in his pretty blue eyes, the half-naked man huffed and stormed off, breaking the spell. Louis dropped Harry’s hand and cleared his throat, turning around. Harry rubbed a hand over his face and contemplated leaving too when Louis turned back around. 

“Thanks, Haz,” he grinned, looking down. “That was really nice, and um, I really appreciate it, you know?”

“Of course Lou, any time,” Harry blinked back, sleepily. He downed his cocktail in one and made to stand. “’M sleepy, Lou. Better go,” he said, the last word interrupted by a yawn. He stood up and swayed on his feet, his eyes widening in surprise as he grabbed the counter for balance.

“Oh no you don’t,” Louis protested, holding a careful arm around Harry’s waist, “my shift is finishing up and I’ll be heading out. I’ll take you home, okay?” Harry nodded compliantly, not in the right state of mind to consider the implications of that sentence.

“Wait, gotta text Niall and Liam,” he slurred. He no longer felt drunk from the alcohol, but rather from lack of sleep, which he found strange, because he hadn’t really exerted himself much. Maybe it was that confrontation, he thought, maybe it took more energy than he realised. He fumbled for his phone in his back pocket, but his fingers were too clumsy.

“Lou,” he complained. “Phone. Please.” He felt Louis set him down gently against a wall before feeling around Harry’s pockets for his phone.

“Password?” Louis asked.

“117,” Harry answered, “it spells cat.” Louis shook his head fondly.

“Alright, I’m in. What are their contacts?”

“Liam is the shocked and embarrassed emoji, and Niall is the football,” he giggled.

“Harold you are so weird,” Harry could detect fondness in there, so he wasn’t at all offended.

“You love it Lou,” he replied as he nuzzled into Louis’ neck. Louis just sighed, and Harry wasn’t sure what to make of that.

“Okay, all clear. We’re good to go. Come on, you great oaf.”

“I’m not an oaf,” Harry disagreed, slightly put out.

“You kind of are,” Louis laughed, lugging him through the club to the front door.

“Then I’m your oaf,” Harry said with an air of finality. And it shut Louis up, for which Harry wasn’t sure if he should be relieved or hurt. His brain decided on the latter.

“Why don’t you like me, Louis? What did I do? Am I not pretty enough?” Harry lamented.

“Alright, Kasey Chambers, that’s quite enough.”

“I didn’t get that reference. Also, don’t think I didn’t notice you avoided my question.”

He gave Harry an exasperated look. “Look, Harry. You’re drunk. And I don’t do that.”

Harry’s face flamed red, embarrassed and ashamed. Of course Louis didn’t involve himself with his drunken customers. He cleared his throat and stood up straight, shaking off Louis’ grip.

“Right. Um, I’ll just be on my way then. See you later, Louis.” Harry didn’t look back as he spoke, almost a whisper, just itching to get away.

“Come back tomorrow. When you’re sober. We’ll talk then,” Louis’ words had Harry’s bruised heart soaring. He nodded mutely and turned to go, but Louis grabbed his arm. He slowly spun Harry back around and very carefully and slowly leant in. Harry could feel Louis’ breath on his face and it was making his head spin. Louis placed a soft kiss on his cheek and his eyelids fluttered. Louis stepped aside.

“Bye Harry,” he called as he backed away.

Harry bit his lip and ducked his head, “bye Lou.”

* 

Harry went back the next night. Louis wasn’t there. Harry tried not to be disappointed. He failed.

* 

He wasn’t sure he wanted to try again. Even thought specifically told him to go back, he didn’t show and the rejection stung. Harry told himself to get over it. It was just a crush. And he was only in Australia for two weeks, anyway. Nothing could have come of it. But still, the niggling hope in the back of his mind, the one that told him Louis was something special, just wouldn’t go away. But he promised himself he wouldn’t go back. Not tonight, at least. Tonight was going to be a boys’ night – but a mature one. Dinner at a pub, maybe a pint or two, and then a little exploration. It was going to be good.

They had spent the day at the beach again, this time trying to learn to surf. Trying being the operative word. They weren’t all awful; Liam had quite a good grasp of the basics and was definitely the best out of the three. Niall wasn’t too bad, though he hadn’t quite mastered the standing part of it. Harry, however, was utterly hopeless. Not only did he have absolutely no control of his limbs, but he was also prone to taking out anyone else in his range. Needless to say, he retired before he seriously injured himself or someone else. Though it’s not to say he didn’t have a blast. Just maybe that surfing wasn’t for him.

He lay down on his towel, toes curling in the sand. He was just getting comfortable when someone cleared their throat above him. He peeked on eye open. Louis was standing there awkwardly, fingers twisting and leg bobbing nervously.

“Um, hi,” he began. Harry sat up and looked at Louis passively. Louis cleared his throat again. Harry, ever the polite person, replied with a simple,

“Hi.”

“So, um, I don’t know if you went to the club last night,” Harry nodded almost imperceptibly, “right. Um, I just wanted to let you know that my shift got changed last minute and I was swapped with Nick.” Harry looked up from his lap at that. He had told himself all day that he didn’t care about Louis, and Harry had almost started to believe it, but one look from him and he was back to square one. Harry looked Louis in the eyes, and Louis seemed to be nervously expecting a response.

“Okay.”

Louis sighed in relief and laughed a little. “I don’t even know why I’m here. I don’t even know why I care so much. I just…I just saw you lying down, and I had this urge to come and talk to you. And when my boss told me last night, as I walked in the door, that I wouldn’t actually be working, my first thought was ‘what about Harry?’ And then when I saw you just then, I needed to come over and talk to you, and make sure you know I didn’t like, stand you up or anything after I specifically told you to come see me.” Louis was pacing back and forth in front of Harry, gnawing on his fingertips with a frown etched on his face.

Harry’s anger had melted away while he had watched Louis anxiously explain himself. Now he was just feeling fond. He could feel an adoring smile growing on his face, but he didn’t even mind, because if Louis’ freak out was telling Harry anything, it was that Louis had _feelings_ and didn’t know what to do with them. It made Harry all warm inside, fuzzy and gooey with affection. As Louis stalked past again, chattering on about events Harry had already forgiven him for, Harry grabbed his wrist. Louis stopped suddenly and stood stock-still. He was staring at his wrist in Harry’s as though it had never been held before. Harry tried to catch his eyes, and when he did Harry patted the towel beside him. Louis blushed and warily sat down next to Harry, his wrist still in Harry’s grasp.

“It’s fine, Lou. I forgave you about five minutes ago.” Louis gaped at him.

“Then why on earth did you let me embarrass myself further.”

“I figured you needed to suffer a bit too,” Harry said calmly. Louis ducked his head, a sheepish look on his face, and swallowed heavily.

“I am sorry, though. I know you said it’s fine, but I still feel guilty.”

“Well don’t.” Louis cracked a smile, but nodded all the same.

“I’ll try,” he replied softly. Harry opened his mouth to say more, but they were interrupted by shouts and whoops. Niall and Liam came bounding up the beach to them, dripping wet and dragging their boards behind them. When Niall reached them he dropped his board unceremoniously and shook his head like a wet dog, spraying them with seawater. Harry yelped in surprise as the cool water hit his skin and turned to Louis in shock as he giggled beside him. When Harry noticed his staring he burned crimson and hid his smile in his shoulder. Harry turned back around as Liam joined them.

“Harry, where’d you go, mate? Waves were perfect.”

“Just don’t think surfing is my calling, sorry,” Harry laughed, “couldn’t stay upright for the life of me.” They all chuckled at that, even Louis, knowing full well how true that statement was.

“Who’s your friend, Haz,” Liam asked. And without waiting for an answer, he introduced himself. “Hi, Liam Payne. How do you know Haz?”

Louis shook his hand soundly. “Louis Tomlinson, and we met at the club a couple nights ago.” Niall and Liam shared a look, Harry burying his face in his hands before sending them a meaningful look. Louis looked on in confusion. Before he could ask, Harry introduced him to Niall.

“This is Niall. He likes food. You’ll love him.” They shook hands and Louis smiled at him warmly.

Liam checked his watch, grimacing at the time. “If we want to make the pub before the game starts then we have to leave now, sorry,” he said, sending an apologetic glance at Louis. Louis waved a hand at him in response, not bothered.

“No worries, lads. I was heading off anyway.” He suddenly turned shy. “Um,” he said handing a slip of paper to Harry, “here’s my number. I’ll talk to you later, yeah?” And he walked off back the way he came, shoulders back and head up. Harry stared after him.

“Was that-“ Liam started.

“Yeah,” Harry sighed, and began picking up his belongings. “Come on, we better be off.”

* 

Harry didn’t see Louis at all the next day. Though he would never admit it, he was kind of disappointed. He was itching to be in his presence. There was something intoxicating about him, and Harry didn’t understand his immediate attraction to him. Mostly, it was just inconvenient. Like now, when all Harry wanted was to hear him talk, but it seemed there wasn’t going to be another magical appearing act.

When the three of them had arrived at the bar last night, they had snagged a table in the back corner within viewing distance of the TV. Harry had immediately entered Louis’ number into his phone while Niall sniggered at him from across the booth. But he still carried around the piece of paper in his pocket. He just couldn’t throw it out. It was a bit pathetic. And he hadn’t texted either; he wasn’t sure he could bring himself to initiate the conversation. But on the other hand he knew it was the only option, because Louis didn’t have his number, and as romantic as turning up at Louis’ place of work every night would be, it would get creepy after a while. So as he sat in the middle of the mall, he hyped himself up. And he let out a huge gust of air in relief. He had done it. “Hi it’s Harry,” it read. And then he anxiously awaited a response.

He didn’t get one until that evening, when he was contemplating going to Louis’ club. It was his last night in that hostel, and he had his fancy bag packed and sitting on his bed beside him. So there was really nothing stopping him from going – except his fear. Fear of what, he couldn’t exactly say, but it seemed to stem from fear of embarrassment and fear of rejection. Which were perfectly valid excuses, if you asked him. In all honesty, he was just being lazy and scared. And he didn’t want to be either of those things; he wanted to be proactive and Louis’ boyfriend. And it was that exact thought that shook him. Because if he could admit to himself that he really liked Louis, that meant it was a real thing that was really happening, and that scared the shit out of him.

Harry knew he was a naturally affectionate character, but he hadn’t had a serious relationship for some years. Being gay in a small town meant very few pickings, so he had been forced to experiment somewhere else. He often took the train to Manchester, and laden with a fake ID, found himself. Strangers in a club didn’t want a long-term, serious relationship. They wanted a fuck in the bathroom. But that was a little ironic, Harry thought, considering he and Louis met in a club.

He groaned and flopped back onto his pillow. He was stalling. He sighed deeply. He was going to do this. He gave himself a pep talk before hauling himself up and out the door. He texted Niall and Liam on his way out, telling them he was going to see Louis. Before he could slide the phone back into his jeans it pinged with a new message. _Unknown Number_. Shit. He had texted back. Harry stopped still in the hallway and then slumped against the wall. He thumbed open the text and sucked in a breath.

_Hiya Harry_ , _I’m not working tonight but wanted to know if you wanted to hang out. I’m staying at the Grand Hostel._

His fingers were shaking as he tried to type out a response. Of course he wanted to see Louis. If he could just get his fingers to works, he could tell him so.

_Of course, Lou. I’ll be there soon._  

Harry made it to the hostel with a minimum of wrong turns, which he counted as a success. He texted Louis to say he was downstairs and took a seat at one of the plush lounges that stood in the lobby. He twiddled his thumbs while he waited, humming under his breath. Footsteps on the polished wooden floor triggered Harry to look up. He saw Louis standing before him, shy smile and hands clasped over his front.

“Hi,” Harry breathed.

“Hi,” Louis murmured back. “Come on up.”

Harry tried not to be too obvious as his eyes flitted from object to object. In between taking everything in Harry stared shamelessly at Louis’ back, just appreciating him. He was gorgeous even from behind. He was engrossed he didn’t register when Louis stopped moving, and walked straight into his back with an oof.

“Sorry,” Harry whispered, steadying himself on Louis’ shoulder. Louis just smiled and unlocked his door. He had a double room, and both beds were unmade. There was an open laptop on one and Louis led Harry to that one. He sat down on the edge and gestured for Harry to do the same.

“So this place allows deliveries, so I thought we could order pizza and just watch movies?” He glanced at Harry’s face nervously. Harry smiled and nodded.

“That would be nice.” Louis nodded in response and left the room, gesturing for Harry to make himself comfortable. He took off his shoes and laid them by the door before taking a seat on Louis’ bed and tying shake off his nerves. Louis returned shortly with a pizza menu and a phone.

“I forgot to ask what pizza you wanted,” he chuckled. He handed the menu to Harry and typed the phone number into the handset.

“Can I get pepperoni please?” Louis nodded again and then wandered off again to place their order.

While he was gone, Harry took the opportunity to snoop. He stood up from the bed and glanced around the room. It was messy. It seemed to fit Louis, in combination with his permanently disheveled appearance and goofy attitude. Harry had just begun to admire the photos Louis had stuck to the wall when there was a knock at the door. Confused, Harry opened the door. Standing there was not Louis, nor the pizza delivery guy. Instead, there was a beautiful, olive-skinned man who looked shocked to find Harry behind the door.

“Oh, sorry mate! Didn’t realise you were here yet. I’ve just forgotten my jacket – I’ll be out of your hair again soon, no problem.” Harry opened the door wider and let the man through. He wasn’t quite sure how to act. Should he say hello? This man seemed to know him, though. Which meant he also must have known Louis. When he walked to the second bed and picked up the leather jacket that was sitting there, Harry realised this must be the roommate. The roommate stuck a hand out for Harry to shake.

“I’m Zayn. Lou’s mate. We’re here in Australia together before heading back to London.”

“Harry. And yeah, same. My friends and I are here for another week before we’re off.”

“Oh cool! Lou hasn’t shut up about you, you know?” He said conversationally, artfully leaning against the doorjamb. “Harry this, and Harry that. Pretty sure he thinks the world of you, mate.” Harry blushed at his words and shook his head.

“I don’t think so,” he replied with a self-deprecating smile. Zayn made to respond, but that was the moment Louis decided to arrive. He also seemed shocked to see Zayn. 

“What are you doing here? I thought you were going out for the night?” Louis said with no subtlety at all.

“I am, don’t worry. Just forgot my jacket.” He slipped it on and made to leave, but turned back around before he had a foot out the door. “It was nice to meet you,” he said to Harry, “and remember what I said,” he called over his shoulder. Louis gave him a quizzical look, and when Harry just shook his head, he shrugged.

“Pizza should be twenty minutes,” he sat down on his bed and shuffled up to the headboard. He placed the computer on his lap and inclined his head to the space beside him. Harry shuffled over, careful not to touch Louis and awkwardly sat beside him. Louis seemed to have relaxed during the phone call, and was happily tapping away on his computer while Harry sat silently, desperately trying to ignore the heat emanating from Louis’ body.

“So I was thinking a Disney marathon. Cool?” he glanced at Harry and seemed to notice his stiff posture. “You didn’t have to come, you know,” he looked down, nervous again, “I don’t want you to be uncomfortable. You can go if you want.” He looked seconds away from crying, which was so unlike the Louis he had met at the club.

“No, no. I promise I’m good. I want to be here, Louis,” he said earnestly. Louis just blinked at him before turning back to his computer and clicking on the first movie. Harry didn’t know how to respond to Louis’ bout of insecurity, so he said nothing more and settled in for the movie.

They had just started to relax around each other when the room’s phone went off. Louis jumped in surprise and Harry had to stifle a giggle. Louis glared good-naturedly at him before picking it up.

“Pizza’s here,” was all he said. Harry nodded and went to get up. “No, don’t worry, I’ve got it,” Louis said. So Harry sat back and waited patiently for the pizza, his stomach rumbling the more he thought about food.

When Louis returned, Harry made grabby hands for his box. God, he was hungry. Louis just laughed and held it above his head, taunting him. Harry pouted and whined, wriggling down the bed to get to Louis. Louis was cackling so much he couldn’t keep the box above his head, folding into himself with laughter. Harry couldn’t hold up much longer, either, and started giggling too, which soon turned into loud guffaws as he fell back onto the bed. He felt the bed dip as Louis crawled beside him. He rested the pizza boxes on Harry’s chest and he hissed at the heat but almost moaned at the smell. He waited until Louis was comfortable before handing the pizzas to him and scooting back until he was content again. He was handed a box and he inhaled the wafting greasy goodness.

Louis resumed the movie and they ate in silence, except for the occasional laugh. They were watching The Little Mermaid and Harry couldn’t help but draw parallels between situations. He may have been projecting, but he really connected with Ariel as she sang ‘Part of Your World’. He began humming it under his breath without realising. He only stopped when he felt Louis’ eyes on his face, and blushed with the realisation. But Louis said nothing except, “you have a pretty voice” with a smile, and turned back to the movie. Harry looked down at his almost empty pizza box and beamed. After that, he wasn’t so shy about singing along to all the songs he knew the words to. Which was most of them. Before he knew it, the movie was over and Louis was asking if he wanted to watch another. He showed Harry the playlist of Disney movies he created for the night and Harry was overwhelmed with fond feelings for him. He was so cute. And Harry almost couldn’t help himself. His hand twitched, itching to reach out for Louis’, but he reeled himself in. This was a step in the right direction, he reminded himself, no need to overwhelm him just yet.

The rest of the night was much of the same. They steadily worked their way through the list of movies, pizza finished, Harry singing and still a sizeable gap between them. Harry could only speak for himself, but he was so close to closing the gap he could feel his body straining itself to be closer. But he refused to move. He had decided, in between Snow White and Tangled, he would take this (whatever _this_ was) at Louis’ own pace. One, so he wouldn’t scare the guy off, and two, because Harry had no idea what Louis wanted from him. And Harry figured the easiest way to work it out was to let Louis lead.

By the time they made their way through all the movies, it was well into the early hours of the next morning. Harry yawned as he sat up and stretched. Louis was blinking blearily beside him, concentrating on staying awake. Harry made a motion to get up but a hand on his bicep stopped him. In truth, Harry had avoided looking at Louis as the night wore on because he looked so cuddly, but as he glanced first down at Louis’ hand on his arm, and then into his glazed blue eyes, he couldn’t resist smoothing Louis’ hair off his face with the arm not in Louis’ grasp. And the warm feeling he got in his tummy when Louis leaned into it was not unwelcome.

“Stay here,” Louis slurred, “it’s too late for you to go now.” He seemed to look slightly smug as he said it, and Harry couldn’t help but wonder if Louis had hoped for this outcome. But he just shrugged, dislodging Louis’ hand as he did, and the sudden cold he felt where his hand used to be was not normal. But nonetheless he placed the laptop carefully on the ground and slid under the covers beside Louis. Harry was completely prepared for an awkward night of fitful rest, with both of them keeping to their respective bedsides, but he was caught off guard when Louis disregarded all pretenses and turned his back to Harry and grabbed his arm, draping it over his chest. He snuggled back into Harry comfortably and sighed in content.

“Um, Louis?” Harry wasn’t really sure how to proceed.

“Don’t care,” Louis responded stubbornly, “sleep.” Harry sighed in submission and wiggled closer to him, gaining a firmer grip on Louis and slotting a leg between his.

“Night, Lou,” he said, nosing the nape of Louis’ neck.

‘Night, love,” Louis replied. And if Harry felt a rush of emotion at the pet name, that was between him and his body.

* 

After that night, things seemed to subtly shift between Louis and Harry. There was no morning-after awkwardness, and no hasty goodbyes. Instead, they comfortably spent the day in each other’s company, Louis showing Harry around the city – places Harry had never heard of before, and learnt all about Louis’ six-month stay in Sydney.

Throughout the next week they became inseparable. They spent every waking minute together, excluding when Louis had a shift at the club. But even then, Harry would often follow along behind him, sit at the bar and listen to Louis tell stories in between serving patrons. He saw more of Louis in that time than he did Niall and Liam, and though they acted jealous, Harry knew they were happy for him.

However things didn’t really change between them, despite spending all their time together. Zayn’s words were ringing in Harry’s ears but he couldn’t find any truth in them. There was a definite intimacy that wasn’t there before, and they definitely exchanged more fleeting touches, but there was no kissing, no sex and no implications. There was plenty of flirting, banter and even a few cheeky innuendos, but there never seemed to be any heat behind it. Harry had resigned himself to the fact that whatever he felt for Louis was not reciprocated, and it was unlikely that he would be receiving any cheeky handjobs after all. And he had to accept that, as an attractive single man who provided alcohol, Louis was going to get his fair share of attention. But it was hard to process when his heart eyes could be seen from across the ocean and his mind was so clouded with _Louis_ that there wasn’t any space left for anything else. Say, avoiding irrational jealousy.

There was one night in particular that Harry recalled as a moment of weakness. Louis had been getting hit on steadily throughout the night, and Harry was sulking into his margarita. Both men and women had been attempting to chat him up, and Harry had to watch forlornly as Louis politely smiled at them and humoured their attempts at conversation. There was a break in the traffic, and Harry was just about to ask for another story when a man with dirty blond, shaggy hair and a loose muscle tank sauntered up to the bar and leaned heavily on the countertop. That was his move, Harry thought miserably. The man appeared to be completely drunk, swaying on his feet where he stood. He asked for a beer, and followed it up with a cringe worthy pick-up line about asking for Louis’ number. Louis grimaced and turned around to grab his beer. As he bent over, the man wolf-whistled and leant over the bar to grab a fistful of Louis’ bum. Louis stiffened, then straightened up so quickly the man’s hand banged on the bar. Before Louis could open his mouth to screech at the man, Harry was up in his face.

“Keep your hands off my boy,” he growled menacingly. Usually whenever Harry tried to seem intimidating, he looked like a disgruntled kitten. But either this guy was too drunk, or Harry was actually scary, because he stuck his hands in the air in surrender and tried to back away without tripping over himself. When he was gone, Harry nodded in satisfaction and spun around to face Louis, who was still fuming. 

“Hey,” Harry bent over awkwardly to catch his eye, “you alright?” Louis clenched his jaw and shook his head shortly. He had a white-knuckled grip on the counter top and was breathing heavily. Harry gently placed his hands on Louis’ and massaged circles onto the backs with his thumbs. The gentle motions seemed to stir Louis, who blinked rapidly a few times before collapsing in on himself, shoulders and drooping with the released breath. He glanced at his watch quickly and sighed.

“It’s time to go, I think.”

*

Apart from that one incident, the two of them had a magnificent week together. Except it was day 13, and Harry left tomorrow. He was noticeably subdued when he met up with Louis that morning, and Harry knew he had picked up on something, but he didn’t voice his concerns until they arrived a the Botanical Gardens. Harry carried a picnic basket in one hand, and Louis had a blanket folded up under his. The weather was warm and sunny, perfect for a picnic and a welcome way to end an epic holiday. They lay down the rug and sat side by side, pulling out pre-packaged ‘dishes’ from the supermarket. When everything was on display, Louis nudged his side.

“What’s up Haz?” He asked with a smile. Gone was insecure Louis, Harry hadn’t seen him since pizza night. Instead there was confident, loud, spontaneous and gorgeous Louis, and God; Harry was going to miss him. Harry lay back on the rug so he didn’t have to look at Louis as he spoke.

“Day 13, Lou,” his voice broke on the last word. 

“Oh,” Louis breathed. He placed a comforting hand on Harry’s shoulder and rubbed little circles in. “Well,” he continued, in an overly cheery voice, “We’ll just have to make it the best ever then.” He nodded decisively. Harry smiled a little at Louis’ cheer, however put on it was, because it was already making Harry feel better. 

The bright sun was high in the sky by the time they had finished the picnic. There were only a bunch of grapes left, and Louis got that mischievous look in his eyes as he picked them up. Harry only had a split second to react as Louis yelled, “catch Haz!” And, unsurprisingly, he missed. But it did make him laugh, like properly laugh, and Louis looked so pleased with himself that Harry kept going. From there they took it in turns, attempting to catch the fruit in their mouths, while throwing as sloppily as possible to make it as difficult as they could. By the time the grapes were finished, there was a pile settled around them, and they couldn’t stop giggling. They lay on their sides, staring into each others eyes, silent except for a burst of giggled every now and then. Harry appreciated the silence, it meant he could drink in Louis’ features, and savour this moment. His touch, soft on Harry’s side and his smell of fresh grass and fruit. He knew Louis was doing the same, and he cherished the fact that Louis was going to miss him.

He was so focused on Louis’ eyes that he completely missed them coming closer, until he could feel Louis’ hot breath on his skin. His eyes were flicking between Harry’s own and his lips, and Harry found himself wanting it so bad he didn’t think he could stop himself from closing the gap if he tried. His eyes fluttered closed as their lips made contact, still and firm. Louis’ lips were plush against his own, and he dragged up Louis’ side to cup his cheek as he moved his lips against Louis’. He moaned when Louis opened his mouth, drawing Harry’s tongue in and deepening their kiss. He rolled over, pinning Louis beneath his entire body, and it felt so good and so right. They were making out earnestly now, not giving a thought to the possible strangers who could pass by. They were enraptured in each other. Eventually they pulled back, panting. Harry whined and nuzzled his head in Louis’ neck, content but always wanting more. Louis’ fingers carded through his hair, and Harry purred. Louis giggled in amusement and tugged harder, Harry fighting a moan. He looked up at Louis, eyes dark, and he saw the moment of realisation on Louis face. His sheepish expression turned dark, and then he was hauling Harry up for another kiss. He felt fireworks and heat and stars exploding. It was so intense that Harry wanted moremoremore, and ground his hips against Louis’.

“Lou,” he moaned against his lips. He needed relief. Louis’ hand slid from his hair to his bum, and pushed down experimentally. Harry groaned again and that persuaded Louis to keep his hand there in constant pressure. It was so good. In a single moment of clarity, he sincerely hoped that the bright sunny day had deterred passersby from this shady, secluded, very public area. But in a swift moment that thought was gone, and with it, any semblance of control. He was shamelessly rutting against Louis hips now, on the verge of exploding. He could feel Louis’ hips in tandem with his own, close too, and that spurred Harry on. It was only another few moments before orgasm washed over him, and an unintentionally loud moan startled a bird a few trees over. Its loud squawk alarmed both Louis and Harry, and they stared at one another before erupting into laughter. They stayed like that, entwined on the blanket, until daylight turned to dusk. Harry sat up and began to clear things away, while Louis watched on fondly. He stood up and held out a hand to Harry. 

“Niall, Liam and I were going to have dinner tonight as a kind of goodbye. Would you want to come?’ He asked shyly. Louis beamed up at him and pressed a quick kiss to his cheek.

“Definitely,” he nodded enthusiastically, “can Zayn come too?” 

“Of course,” Harry replied with a smile, and they walked hand in hand from the Gardens.

When they arrived at the restaurant, the other four were already seated and chatting. Niall was the first to spot them, whistling loudly and drawing the attention of Liam and Zayn. Liam whooped when he saw their hands, while Zayn grinned and gave Harry a look that screamed _I told you so_. He blushed and hid his face behind Louis’ head, hiding a grin. They took their seats and a waiter immediately appeared with a jug of water. Harry observed the restaurant, taking particular interest in the proximity of Zayn and Liam. He nudged Louis and Lou smiled and winked, giggling quietly. After they placed their orders they fell into a conversation about Sydney. As Harry and Louis had all but disappeared for a week, there was a lot of catching up to do.

It was nice to see his boys again, and even nicer to have Zayn and Louis there too, the latter of which ‘s hand was snugly held in his, and resting on his thigh under the table. Conversation was lighthearted though it dwindled one the food arrived. Harry and Louis shared a cheesecake for dessert, and bickered over who should pay their share. Harry rose triumphant, and was smug for the rest of the night. He knew Louis was secretly pleased. As dinner drew to an end and the boys were planning a big last night out, Harry leaned over to whisper in Louis’ ear.

“How about we skip the partying and just go back to my hostel?” Louis looked at him with wide eyes. Harry was confused for a moment until he realised the implications behind his words. His own eyes widened and his mouth parted in shock. 

“No! I mean, no, not like that. I mean, not that I would be opposed to that,” Louis gave him an amused smile, “oh bollocks. What I intended by my original statement was, would you like to spend my final night in Australia with me? Completely, almost platonically,” Harry grinned.

“Almost?” Louis inquired, eyebrows raised. 

“Maybe a bit of light snogging,” Harry wiggled his eyebrows. Louis smiled gently at him. 

“I’d really like that.” 

Early the next morning Harry woke with a groan. Snuffles came from his left, and he smiled sleepily at the memory of Louis wrapped around him. As he became more aware, his smile dropped, all his other memories reappearing. Namely the one that reminded him he had a flight to catch. He had a pout on his lips as he turned over to wake Louis. All five of them were going to get a taxi to the airport, and Harry knew a tearful goodbye awaited them.

Louis grumbled as Harry shook his shoulder, reluctant to leave the warmth of his sleepy haze. When he opened his eyes and saw Harry’s bright green eyes, a smile flitted across his lips. But it quickly disappeared as he too remembered what the day had in store for them. He surged up and attached his lips to Harry’s, desperate to forget, just for a moment.

In half an hour their bags were packed and they were ready to leave. Liam had called the taxi, and they were just waiting upon its arrival. All five of them had decided to forgo breakfast, too nervous and upset to eat. When Niall had voiced his agreement, the other four had looked at him in shock.

“What?” he asked defensively, “It’s an emotional time.”

The silver taxi pulled up at the curb. Liam graciously took the front seat, Niall and Zayn took the middle and Louis and Harry curled up in the back. The ride to the airport was silent but filled with emotion. Harry and Louis just stared into each other’s eyes sadly, hands clasped tight together. A single tear rolled down Harry’s cheek and Louis kissed it away.

It only got worse at the airport. They couldn’t keep their hands off each other, always touching, and Niall, Liam and Zayn looked on with sympathy. When it got to security and Louis and Zayn could go no further, Harry launched himself at Louis and held on for dear life. His sobs threatened to escape and tears rolled down his face. He was sure he looked a mess, but to clean up would mean to let go of Louis, and he couldn’t do that. Louis was in exactly the same state. He just kept whispering, “I’ll miss you, I’ll miss you so much,” as Harry wailed in his ear. Eventually, though, there was no more time to spare and they had to separate. Louis took Harry’s wet face in his hands and stared into his eyes.

“I’ll miss you so much, love. These past two weeks were incredible, and I want you to know I’ll never forget you, okay?” Harry nodded frantically. “Look me up on Facebook when you’re back, okay?” Harry gurgled a laugh.

“I’ll miss you too,” was all he could manage, sweeping his thumb under Louis’ glossy eye. He took a deep breath and let his arms fall from around Louis. He buried his face in Zayn’s neck and held on tightly as Niall and Liam said their goodbyes to Louis. Then, when all the goodbyes had been said, Harry gave Louis one last kiss, and turned and walked away.

He was subdued during the flight, eyes puffy and red. He wasn’t even nervous about flying, consumed with thoughts of Louis. He choked out a sob when he realised he didn’t even learn his last name.

*

Harry stood outside the front gates with Niall and Liam at his side. He looked to each of them, took their hands, and led them inside.

The university’s administration building was vast, with lush greens surrounding a picturesque tall, pointed building. It was at odds with the rest of the university, modern in its architecture and design. They strolled through the door, nerves and excitement coursing through their bodies. Liam approached the desk, requesting a hard copy of their class information. When they had it, they ventured back outside and huddled together, reluctant to part ways. But eventually their classes would start, and they had had to hurry along so as not to be late on the first day.

Harry was wandering down the path to his first lecture, enjoying the brief appearance of the sun. There was a flyer pinned to a campus pole, blowing in the breeze. He stepped over to it, eager to immerse himself in any and every extracurricular activity. 

_The Metropolitan Times_

_Are you interested in journalism? If so, the university newspaper is for you! The Metropolitan Times is holding its first meeting on the first day of term at 1:00pm. We are looking for writers, editors, photographers and anyone else who is interested. Be there or be square!_

Harry perked up at the word photographer. He checked his schedule. His last class finished just before one. He looked over the flyer, searching for a location. He jotted it down in his journal and jogged the rest of the way to class. He arrived just as the teacher was walking down the hall.

“Late this early in the term?” He gave her a sheepish, dimpled smile and slipped into _Photography 101_.

He only had two classes that day, and as the last one let out he heaved a sigh of relief. Not a bad first day, he thought. Harry began heading towards the theatre block, where the newspaper meeting was being held. He slipped in the back of the theatre just as the person on the stage began to welcome everyone. He stopped, his bag halfway of his shoulder. He knew that voice. He had obsessed over that voice and the person attached to it for two weeks. He had attempted to get over said person for a month before university started. He slowly turned his head to the stage; terrified his mind was playing tricks and that was, in fact, not his Louis. Except it was. There he stood, commanding the attention of everyone in the room (especially Harry), bright and bubbly and so exactly the same as Harry remembered him that it hurt. 

He quietly sat down, captivated by Louis. He listened to him speak, learning all the information he never discovered in their two weeks together. Louis Tomlinson, 20 years old, originally from Doncaster, third year at London Metropolitan University. As a Journalism student, Louis was chief editor of the newspaper. He explained a little about what they, as a team, would be doing, but Harry couldn’t focus on anything except _omgit’sLouis_. Louis then split up the new hopefuls into areas of interest. Harry briefly caught the word ‘photo’ and ‘left’ and followed the other three people with cameras around their necks. He gaped when he saw the person in charge of the photographers. Zayn! He grinned and quickened his steps, hoping to grab Zayn’s attention before he started with explanations. Zayn did a double take when he saw him, before beaming and roughly pulling him into a hug.

“Harry! Mate, how’ve you been? Didn’t even know you went here,” Zayn said, face smushed into Harry’s collarbone.

“Um, I’ve been alright thanks. And yeah, me neither. It’s a surprise.”

“You a fresher then?” Zayn grinned. Harry nodded with a laugh. 

“Yeah, first day. Was pretty good, actually.” Zayn nodded again. He turned to the other students milling around. “M’name is Zayn Malik. I’m a third year here as well, and I study photography. I’ll be your boss, so to speak, as well as your guide. Do you have any questions?” Nobody stuck up their hand. “Cool, well just jot your details down on this sheet here and you can go,” he enthused. “We’ll contact you soon.” The group nodded and moved towards the sheet of paper, while Zayn pulled Harry aside.

“Have you seen Louis yet?” 

Harry almost melted at the sound of his name, but managed to pull himself together to reply, “no. First I saw of him was just there up on the stage,” he gestured to it, voice growing hazy. “He’s still so pretty Zayn,” he whined. “I just want to kiss him.” He pouted at Zayn, hoping for some sympathy. All he got was Zayn rolling his eyes at him. 

“Pretty sure he wouldn’t be opposed to that, mate. He’s been a right wreck since you left.” Harry was entirely too excited by those words, and Zayn noticed. He clapped Harry on the back and shot a glance over his shoulder.

“Here he comes now.” Harry heard a muffled call of “Zayn!” over the rush in his ears. He was sure his face had drained of all its colour and he thought he’d lost the capacity to move. 

“Zayn, mate. We need to set up a schedule for…” Louis trailed off as Harry turned around. He had a skeptical look on his face tinged with wonder, as if he didn’t want to believe Harry was really here in case it turned out be a mirage. Louis slowly took a step forward and reached out a hand to cup Harry’s cheek. Distantly, he was aware of Zayn stepping out to give them some privacy, but all his focus was centered on the contact between him and Louis. 

“Harry,” he breathed, and just the sound of his voice had any tension in Harry’s body fading away. He smiled dopily at Louis and swayed forward, tempted just to go for it. “Harry,” he repeated, louder. “Oh my God, Harry, you’re here.” And then he was grinning and laughing and Harry couldn’t help but join in, because oh my God they were together again. And then they laughed some more when they realised so much pain could have been avoided if they’d just asked where the other lived. 

When their giggles died down and they had somehow made it on to the stage, Harry’s head resting on Louis’ chest, and his fingers sifting through Harry’s curls, Harry had a thought. 

“Hey Lou?” Harry asked, craning his neck to look him in the eye.

“Yeah, love,” he responded, fondness dripping from his lips.

“Would you maybe want to go on a date with me? Completely not platonically?” They grinned at each other at the memory.

“Yeah, Haz. I’d really like that.”


End file.
